The List II
by natalee moon
Summary: The human Doctor catalogues all the things that lead to his very favorite activity with Rose. Happy Smuff.


Being human and being with Rose were inextricably bound and he loved that. Being a Time Lord, well, part Time Lord, made it possible for him to appreciate how much could be held in a moment. The bounty of time was not measured in its duration. Being human meant measuring that constantly, gathering it, listing each new loveliness until he was remade by them. It was something he had not ever thought possible to have.

He would never forget that first night together. Up late, laying together on the downstairs sofa. Hands gently exploring each other almost in disbelief.

"Was that really the end of that sentence?" she had murmured.

"It was the end of every sentence," he returned, enjoying again the luxury of really looking into her eyes.

A blush bloomed in her cheeks and he wanted to tell her how much like a Rose she really was but wouldn't she laugh at him? So instead he traced long fingers down those rosy cheeks and asked, "And you? How many worlds did you cross to get to me?"

Now she enjoyed the luxury of really looking at him. Letting him see it. Not holding back. "As many as I had to," she replied and he kissed her.

It had been _her_ kiss on the beach. Her kiss of finding and of saying goodbye. This kiss was his. He felt the two sides react: timelines pouring out of the sensation, some on the wings of possibility, others purely fantasy, and then his human body lighting up like a sky filled with stars, the chemistry of desire pulling him apart so he could be close to her.

He pulled away for just a moment because he had to tell her, because he had lived in time lines and possibilities all of his long life but still, "I never thought I could have this."

Later, much later he would share all his memories of their time apart and how much he had missed her. For now there was loving her. Learning her again in tiny, beautiful ways. This was the first of the last places they would visit together. The last door they would walk through that had not been passed through before.

She was incredible. Every adventure with her was incredible and this one was no exception. She explored every place on his body with tender eagerness. And in true Rose fashion she carefully coaxed from what was different because he was a Time Lord. What he needed from her. She made it easy and he surrendered everything. Hands about his face coached her in bringing them together so that his connection to time changed, slowed, rested just out of reach and he existed only in the moment. A tiny breath of light, the time energy of the moment released. Then he was there, all this senses for her alone and she saw into the heart of him as never before. Read his name. Realized what he was giving her and took it. Then gave. He could never have imagined this feeling of receiving from her.

She wrapped herself around him on the sofa and with exquisite gentleness joined them, her legs touching his back, her heart lined up with his. She caught the sound he made with her mouth and smiled into his kiss. Then she pulled back ran her fingers through his hair, tracing his face and all its beloved contours, memorizing the expression of pleasure across it with real happiness, "I never thought I would have this with you either."

After that everything disappeared into what they could have and _became_ and he realized love was its own gratitude. It wended its way to pleasure like a river, burned up in the sky like a sun and between itself became such beauty. He gave himself over to her and she dispelled loneliness, pushing it back into the past and bringing him forward into happiness. She narrowed every feeling in this now half-human body to one and he could not measure it. Its calculation lay outside genius. Outside time itself. It was the greatest gift a moment could offer and it was his. His after losing and saving and letting go. His to gather up in her sounds of pleasure by his ear. Her hands gripping harder as they got closer. Her surrender adding itself to the bounty. She was his, _his_ in every way. And he felt her savour that possessive thought from him and draw closer. Her hands ran up his neck and into his hair, then a little wildly about his face. _Have this._ her body commanded and he did. Felt her trace the shape of his name in her mind and a feeling so intense flushed through him he shuddered. His hands trembled and the moment was too much to hold. His body gave over and he stiffened, felt her trembling against him, wasn't sure if he was still holding her or if it was too tightly. For one long moment he could not feel anything except the concentrated pleasure of his body. It blotted out all of time and space and he stood a little in awe of it. He had forgotten about creation on his journeys. It had been a very long time since he'd been anything but regenerated. But this was it. This was the draw to create life.

Rose would never forget the expression on his face as it occurred to him that they might have a baby. That they might be having one already. For a moment there was only amazement and she couldn't help but grin at him.

"Whadya think?" she teased, "Your hair, my eyes?"

His hand traced her belly tenderly as they sat, still joined, "Not quite yet I think."

She raised her eyebrows, "You'll know?"

He nodded and a real smile overtook his face. She shifted and he let out a gasp, so much more sensitive than he ever remembered being. They had eased apart and he had the very great pleasure of following an already naked Rose into a nice, warm shower. She washed his hair with real relish and they had nice moments of scrubbing each other and lingering overlong in some truly great kisses. She ran her fingers over his stubble, "Bit scratchy."

He rubbed his own hand over it in wonder, "A beard! I never could grow one before. Might like to try it!" then his face clouded with concern and he said quickly, "Maybe not though. Wouldn't want to stop looking like myself."

That gesture was another 'I love you' and it cut her like a knife. The "myself" he referred to clearly his other self. She leaned up and into him under that warm water and cradled his face in her hands, "You will always be yourself to me, my Doctor," she assured him. Another beautiful surrender flashed across his face as he registered that. He was allowed to change and still be the one she wanted. The one she chose.

Afterwards, cuddled up in bed, hair still damp, he read all he had missed in their time apart and let her read all she had missed. It was strange to travel time in the doctor's mind and see it like a map of shifting dots. Each destination a place he might have gone with her. Every reminder mapping that distance in reality and possibilities so that it cut him again and again. He came out of that sharing and felt her wet tears on his face. Regret shadowed him and he took her hands away, "Didn't want to hurt you with it," he said quietly.

She told him to shut it and went about rustling him out of his pajamas, mouth warm and rewarding him for every moment of missing her. He let her.

Next morning he began cataloguing the triggers. After all, this was something he wanted to get very good at navigating towards.

First on the list was bed head. Rose came out to the kitchen, slumped over in front of the coffee he'd made her, had a nice half or so of it before she really paid attention to her surroundings. She gave him a lazy smile and a, "F'anks." and then her eyes moved up to this hair.

"Your welcome," he had returned, sporting what he was sure was a permanent and unstoppable grin. Did all humans feel this fantastic after love making? He was on top of the world.

She had moved slowly over to him, "That," she said slowly, "Is some great hair you've got there."

He hadn't seen it coming and then she had pounced him. On the kitchen chair.

Glasses. They made the list though worked best with the bed head, which could also be 'I've been busy working over this *insert name of gadget here* for hours and have totally mussed up my hair' hair.

Galoshes turned out to be a one-time thing. He still smiled to remember it though and wore them in the rain every time....just in case.

The first time he touched her face and let her read how she looked to him, dressed up for their fancy evening out....they didn't make it out at all. He had to be careful with that one.

A well-timed bottle of wine.

A well-executed back rub on a day she wasn't already tired.

The first time she had come down to his workshop and realized he had built it to look rather like the inside of the TARDIS. That had been for both of them. So had what followed.

And Sunday mornings. Sunday mornings were a guarantee if he could get everything just right. It began with the silencing forcefield around the little house they had settled in. After the neighbors had invested in two "out-door chihuahuas" he had spent a month building the forcefield.

Then breakfast in bed. The famous back rub.

The only hitch on this particular Sunday was he could not find that music she liked so much. He made up for it (he hoped) by wearing his glasses with some particularly great bed head. She smiled at him as she sat up from the back rub to head for the loo.

"Well aren't you looking adorable?" she teased dryly. Was she on to him? He frowned, was she always on to him?

If she was she didn't appreciate the true extent of it because on her way back she chanced a glance out the window and stopped short asking, "Did you put up some kind of forcefield around our house?"

"What makes you ask that?" he said, getting up to join her.

"Our neighbour's found it," she informed him.

He was spraying it with the garden hose looking very perplexed as the water bounced off of what appeared to be nothing.

"Good luck explaining that one!" she laughed and wrapped her arms around him, "All this just to get me in bed?"

He coached an expression of mock affront, "I don't know what you mean! I happen to like my Sunday's quiet is all."

Her fingers wandered into his hair, took off the glasses and put them aside. Her mouth smiled into his neck then trailed kisses up to his face, "The best part has been watching you catalogue it all."

She shook her head at him.

He grinned, "Well, I catalogue everything! I knew all your favorite things while we traveled. Now we share one very important one..."

"I suppose we do," she smiled back, "But while you're making a list, you might want to add..."

She leaned up and whispered in his ear and his eyebrows raised, "Really?"

She wrapped herself around him and laughed a little wickedly, "Figured you wouldn't mind, in the name of science and all."

"I am at heart a scientist Rose," he informed her looking impishly serious, "I will always do my part."

Then he carried them to bed with a growl and proceeded to have the best Sunday morning of his life.


End file.
